


Volontà

by AngriestPotato



Series: Succession Protocols [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Real Mafia AU, also major character death seemed missleading, assorted violence, but someone dies at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 17:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngriestPotato/pseuds/AngriestPotato
Summary: “I’m mostly just worried about you; you know that, right?” Iemitsu says and it’s even harder to believe when he’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed as he stares at his hands settled loosely over his lap.Tsuna can clearly hear Xanxus’ laughter in his mind and realizes with a slight frisson of panic that he misses him, a little; at least Xanxus deigns look at him when he’s talking. He absently wonders what exactly will his padrino consider an appropriate start for this war.





	Volontà

His first meeting of the day goes exactly as he expects it; which is a very detached, polite way of saying he did not expect Iemitsu to be better than this. Honestly, Tsuna thinks full blown screaming would maybe feel a little less shitty than the cold business and offhand distrustful aura his dad pretty much radiates.

  
Maybe if Iemitsu yelled at him Tsuna could delude himself into thinking he was worried about his son, instead of being this clear eyed sure that the head of CEDEF has this criminal empire as his first priority. Then again if Tsuna had been able to sleep the night before, instead of painstakingly recounting his cupola meeting for Reborn, he might actually care beyond the far away ache of knowing he’s always been an itty bitty satellite in his father’s life.

  
“I’m mostly just worried about you; you know that, right?” Iemitsu says and it’s even harder to believe when he’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed as he stares at his hands settled loosely over his lap.

Tsuna can clearly hear Xanxus’ laughter in his mind and realizes with a slight frisson of panic that he misses him, a little; at least Xanxus deigns look at him when he’s talking. He absently wonders what exactly will his padrino –not _compare_ no matter how obvious Xanxus’ displeasure at his use of italian over sicilian is, not when Tsuna is fully aware of the word’s use as synonym for ‘friend’– consider an appropriate start for this war.

“Tsuna?”

  
The look Iemitsu gives him clearly means he expected some sort of response, but he’s a bit stumped honestly.

 _How does this go in your head, old man? –_ he wants to ask– _do I get up from this chair and run into your arms? Do I cry and tell you how scared I am? How the Varia have a gun to my temple?_

“I know,” he forces out instead, “but it’s really not necessary.”

“You let Xanxus make you his protégé, do you know where that lands him?” Iemitsu’s face scrunches up with something like disgust, and Tsuna can’t quite figure out if it’s aimed at Nono’s youngest, or him, or both. “He tried to kill Nono, Tsunayoshi, he tried to kill _you_ …”

  
Tsuna’s up and coming laughing fits are alarmingly still there; but he’s sure anyone would see the comedy in the sheer amount of people that have tried to kill him in the past few years, and he’s also formed alliances with. Sure, it’s not Mukuro or Byakuran –Gokudera or the Varia or Kawahira– Iemitsu has issues with, only Xanxus. It occurs to Tsuna that this is exactly why his new padrino left right on Reborn’s tail before the head of CEDEF even stepped into the mansion, whatever it is between him and Iemitsu, it’s unsettlingly personal.

Iemitsu’s eyes are still on him; and the part of Tsuna that still wants to believe in his own dad considers explaining that he made his own decision, that he’d rather sentence them all to this life than seeing his grandfather in pain again, than having to hear the old guardians on the phone asking for any news around the lumps in their throats.

The exhausted, rational part of him chooses to stare right back instead, until Iemitsu excuses himself – _to let him catch some sleep_ , he says– and walks out the office leaving behind only promises to keep close for whatever Tsuna might need.

…

 

His second meeting is unplanned and Tsuna is so goddamn glad to have missed it, that it threatens to be the one thing to make him pass out from sheer relief.

He doesn’t see the car suddenly gunning it towards them until it actually hits the compact where himself, Gokudera and Yamamoto ride, almost t-boning them at the intersection. He does hear the shots though, even if it takes him a second to realize they come from their own vehicle and that Hayato’s pretty much hanging out the driver’s window, and they were only supposed to go shopping for groceries _for fucks sake_.

The other car speeds away under Gokudera’s rain of fire while Yamamoto tries to pry away the semiautomatic Tsuna doesn’t even remember picking out from under the seat.

It’s warm only from his grip on it, it still has the safety on even; but it’s there in his hands like reflex and Tsuna feels like he doesn’t fully recognize the wild eyed face looking at him in the rearview mirror.

…

 

His third – _last_ , please let this be the last thing he does before he finally sleeps– is quiet, since Nono is currently out for the night on painkillers and the general shitty feeling of having been shot at not a full week ago.

But Tsuna still stays there in his room and tries not to shake as he holds one of his grandfather’s hands in his. He wants to explain himself, he does, no matter how he thinks everything he comes up with sounds like excuses; so he limits himself to mumble how sorry he is for the time being, trying to fight the terror of just how unreachable Timoteo seems when he’s sleeping like this.

  
“He’s not mad at you or anything, kiddo,” a sudden voice behind him pretty much makes him jump half out of his skin, “ _lástima_ , ‘cause you both deserve it.”

The hand on his shoulder is more supportive than admonishing though and he considers himself lucky for getting caught by Ganauche of all guardians; however well-meaning they are, he’s really not in the mood for stoic looks. The old lightning guardian seems to like him no matter how little they have actually interacted; mostly Tsuna only catches glimpses of him joking around the mansion from time to time, with Yamamoto and Gokudera trailing behind him, while Tsuna himself gets stuck with Coyote’s stern disposition.

  
“How’ you holding up?” Ganauche stage whispers, staring at Nono for a long moment as if to make sure everything’s as it should, “You gave Xanxus the war he wanted, what are you gonna do now?”

“Was it that obvious?” Tsuna smiles, self-deprecating and a little too wide; he seems to be bringing out the worst in people lately, so of course the normally friendly Ganauche would lecture him, _of course_.

  
The older man laughs instead, groaning as he pulls up a chair and drops down on it; feet propped up on a nearby stool.

“I’m not blaming you. Xanxus is very good at pretending all he does is shoot, Decimo; I should know, I trained the boy.”

  
There might be a split second of regret in Ganauche’s voice but Tsuna can’t be sure if he’s imagining it; the whole conversation feels a little surreal.

  
“All these years, not a single attempt on him; he’s let the cupola believe he’s a pet lion on a leash, that if his handlers are taken care of, he won’t know what to do.”

  
Tsuna finally looks up from his grandfather’s hand at that, for as hard it is to think that someone like Xanxus would end up on anyone’s leash, least of all his; he remembers the introductions at Ciacuddi. He can clearly still see Xanxus on his right, going around the room with him so the cupola could shake his hand; Tsuna’s was, _is_ , well aware that he’s drawn a big red target on his own forehead, he just didn’t expect the old guardians to have been following the situation so closely, so _knowingly_.

  
Ganauche’s eyes on him are soft but his laughter is just on the edge of mocking.

  
“You really thought you could outwit the devil, didn’t you, kid?”


End file.
